Page 18

"Fuck," Mia mutters when she empties a tube of tennis balls into the cart so carelessly that half of them end up scattered across the court floor again.

Leah, sitting on the bench where she just finished a training session with Alison Young, looks up and fixes her concerned gaze on her friend. She knows Mia is nervous about Aaron's situation and today's appointment at Emma's office, which probably has her more frantic, but Leah has been so absorbed all day, unable to get what happened yesterday with Emily in her office out of her head, that she hasn't asked.

She pinches the bridge of her nose while Mia continues collecting the balls, and the image of Emily before leaving her office hits her hard. Her chest tightens and she feels dirty, both toward Emily and Stella, but she feels worse about herself since last night when she realized she fears losing Emily more than losing Stella.

She decides now isn't the time to think about her problems—which she definitely needs to solve—and stands up to approach Mia.

"Hey," she says after grabbing another tube to help her. "Want me to go with you to the office? Frank could cover my next class, his got canceled."

"No, don't worry," Mia responds with a grateful smile, "you're already doing too much for me. Besides, I just need to bring her all the documentation, I don't think she'll tell me anything important today. You know what's the only thing that bothers me about them handling the case?" she says emptying the last tube.

"What?" Leah asks, furrowing her brow.

"That that prissy Emma will know I have a criminal record. She already considers me trash that doesn't measure up to the soles of her shoes just because I work picking up balls, which, by the way, I love," she says with a very wide smile, "but now she'll see me as an insect."

"You're not an insect, Mia," Leah says angrily.

"I know that. I'm just saying that's how she'll see me."

Leah narrows her eyes and puts the tube next to the cart.

"Since when do you care what others think about you?" she asks with an amused smile.

"I don't care what that snob thinks, and now move, I'm in a hurry," Mia says, pushing the cart toward Leah as if trying to run her over.

The tennis player laughs and steps aside as she watches her friend move away along the side of the court, wondering if the Harris surname has some kind of spell that has managed to bewitch both her and Mia.

Mia exits the elevator to the floor where Emma is waiting, sliding the USB drive she carries in her pocket between her fingers. She feels nervous and expectant as she follows an intern who, as she's been told, is taking her to the meeting room where Emma is already waiting.

"It's here," the young woman says, opening the door to let her in and saying goodbye before closing it.

Before she knows it, Mia finds herself inside a small office whose back wall is a large window that illuminates the entire room with natural light. In the center sits a round mahogany table with four padded chairs that Mia is certain are more comfortable than her couch, and in one of them, Emma finishes jotting something down in a small notebook.

"Hi," Mia says, standing like a statue in front of the table.

Emma still takes a few seconds to look up and answer. She doesn't do it out of rudeness, but because she fears forgetting what she's thinking if she doesn't write it down, but when she finally looks up, she loses her breath at the sight of Mia.

Her pulse races and Emma can't understand why this ball collector, dressed in simple cargo pants and a sleeveless shirt of the most casual kind, seems like the sexiest and most attractive woman she's ever seen. She unconsciously moistens her lips and feels a pang of envy thinking about how easy mornings must be for Mia. Getting up, taking a shower, brushing her hair a bit and heading out because her attractiveness is so natural that she needs nothing more. She, however, spends an hour straightening her hair, applying makeup until she considers herself perfect, then choosing an immaculate suit that stylizes her figure and matches elegant high heels that destroy her feet as the hours pass.

"How are you, Mia?" she finally says, standing up to shake her hand cordially as she does with every client.

Mia finds the gesture surprising but takes a couple of steps toward her and returns the greeting. As soon as their hands press together, both feel the current shoot through their bodies like lightning, and they let go as quickly as they joined.

"Please, sit down," Emma asks, pointing to the chair on her left. "Did you bring the documentation?"

"Yes."

Mia reaches into her pants pocket and places the USB drive on the table before sitting down.

"Perfect," Emma says, opening her laptop.

Mia watches uncomfortably as Emma inserts the drive and opens the folder. She wasn't sure what to expect from this visit, but although Emma seems annoyingly beautiful concentrating as she looks at the screen, she doesn't want to be present when Emma discovers her criminal record.

"Is it necessary for you to read it now?" she asks uneasily.

Emma glances at Mia for a moment and returns to the screen. She immediately senses the reason for her question because of all the files on the drive, one has caught her attention above the rest: Criminal Record Report issued by the South Carolina Law Enforcement Division, and obviously, that's the one she opened.

"I'm just skimming to get an idea of what we have, but you're right, I'll review it later in more detail, sorry," Emma says. "Now I just need to ask you some questions."

"Okay," Mia sighs with relief as Emma puts aside the laptop and picks up her notebook again.

"How's your relationship with your brother Aaron?"

"What kind of question is that?" Mia frowns.

Emma raises her eyebrows.

"One like any other, Mia. I don't know you or him. Just because you're seeking custody doesn't mean you have to get along. He's younger than you, in the middle of adolescence, I don't know..."

"We get along very well," she says sharply, "it's always been that way."

"Okay," Emma takes notes. "That's great, because when we file the appeal, the judge will speak with him alone, ask questions about your relationship, whether he really wants to live with you or feels coerced... And don't attack me," she says when she sees Mia frown, "I'm just telling you what might happen."

"It doesn't matter, Aaron and I get along well, I already told you."

"Very good, that works perfectly for us. Emily says Leah Walker can speak in your favor, is there anyone else who can do that? And by anyone else, I mean people with stable lives who can be good examples for Aaron."

Mia clenches her jaw.

"You mean it's better to avoid lower-class people like me?"

"I didn't say that, and this won't work if you're on the defensive all the time," Emma replies.

Mia swallows, feeling stupid. The truth is Emma is a complete snob who behaves with superiority outside the office, but inside she hasn't shown a single behavior that made Mia feel uncomfortable.

"You're right, sorry. Leah's mothers, they'll also speak in my favor if necessary, and they know Aaron, they spend time with him when he's with me."

"Perfect, what are their names?"

"Anne and Natalie Walker."

Emma makes a note in her notebook.

"The judge will likely want to speak with them and with Leah a bit later, but don't worry, we'll meet beforehand and prepare all of you for the questions she'll probably ask," Emma explains.

"All right."

"Also, we're going to request a psychologist evaluate Aaron. According to Emily, Leah told her he doesn't handle changing homes well and that before the Moores took him in, he had a rough time with the previous family."

"Yes, he doesn't adapt well. He doesn't understand why he can't be with me if I'm his family, he struggles to accept it," Mia swallows. "Luckily, the Moores had patience and managed to earn his trust, and thanks to Tamara Burk getting me weekend visits, he relaxed."

"I understand. Tamara Burk is the social worker, right?" Emma asks.

"Yes, she also said she'd testify in my favor," Mia recalls.

"Great," Emma notes again. "When will you see Aaron next?"

"This weekend. I pick him up Friday and take him back Sunday afternoon."

"Would you mind if I join you when you pick him up?" Emma asks, surprising Mia. "We're going to see each other quite a few times, and I'd like to meet him outside of here or the courthouse, so it's not all so formal and he sees me as a more approachable and trustworthy figure."

Mia stares, mouth agape.

"Uh, yes, but I prefer to go get him alone, that moment is very special for us."

"Of course," Emma clears her throat, "sorry."

"We can meet later at the club if that works for you. I always go there when I pick him up, so he can see Leah and her mothers."

"Great, I'll see you at the club then. For my part, I have everything. I'll review all you've brought me and if I need anything else, I'll call you."

They both stand up at the same time, and Emma, despite intuiting she'll get electrocuted again, extends her hand to Mia, unable to understand why she feels so attracted to a ball collector who even has a criminal record.